All Because of a Couch
by Mx Akiyata
Summary: One-Shot: Allen and Oliver meet up with the Italian brothers to go couch shopping. Al is easily as bored as Luciano, and in hopes of getting to know each other better, he decides they should ditch the couch store and hang out. Needless to say, he wasn't expecting the Italian to accept his offer.


**This is based off an RP fic with _sjsjtd2007_ that we did like forever ago. But it's obviously very long and took me a while to change to paragraph form. Wow. Um...anyway. Pairing focuses on 2p Ameita/Itame, but the first part of this is mainly focused on Oliver and Allen. Sorry for any typos.**

* * *

"Oliver, please stop bouncing." Allen felt he should pay a visit to the Brit, but this was not what he signed up for.

"I'm sorry," Oliver pouted in response, immediately deflating his bubbly demeanor.

Allen sighed. "You're fine," he reassured. "You're just making everything shake."

"Oh, am I?" the Brit giggled, smiling sheepishly. "Guess I don't know my own strength."

"Well, this couch is ridiculously spring loaded... Why do you have this old thing?" He bounced himself on the cushion to prove how over-used it was by the sound of squeaking springs and the fact that Oliver bobbed in his seat as well.

Oliver's eyebrows furrowed together defensively. "Wot's wrong with it?" he argued. "I like this couch!"

The American groaned and swung an arm out for emphasis. "It's old! And if one person moves, everyone else does as well," he explained, annoyed.

The Brit got frustrated and searched for something to counter with. "Well- Well I like this couch!" he shouted and crossed his arms, sticking his nose in the air. "So phooey to you!"

Allen sighed. "Fine. But when one of the springs burst out and impale you in the ass, don't come to _ME _for help."

"Swear jar!" Oliver scoffed. "And don't be so rude. If you don't like my couch, then go get your own!" he huffed and turned the other way.

Allen lifted an eyebrow at the exclamation. "Fine," he spat. "I'll leave then." With that, he bitterly got to his feet and started heading for the door. He only stopped when Oliver called out to him.

"Wait. Wait, poppet! You don't have to leave!" the Brit cried out almost desperately. He frowned when the other turned to him with a questioning look.

"Nah. I think I'll go," Allen said with a smirk. He wasn't sure what Oliver's problem was, but he didn't exactly like being yelled at over stupid shit. After all, Ollie's the one that told him to leave, right?

Oliver's frown deepened. "Why, poppet?" He paused, thinking for a moment, his eyes moving down to the floor. "I didn't mean to be rude. I just really do like this couch..."

"You made the offer for me to leave," Al said. But seeing the Brit's miserable expression, he sighed, shifting his feet. "Whatever. I need a drink anyhow. Want something?"

"Well I was just cranky 'cos you were dissing my couch." Oliver pouted. "But no, I'm alright, poppet. Thanks..."

"_Dissing_...?" Allen mused as he headed off to the kitchen for some water. When he returned, he saw the Brit pouting again, bottom lip sticking out like an ill-tempered child's. "Awe, don't be such a whiner," Al joked.

"I'm not whining," Oliver stated and turned away stubbornly.

"Oh, come on, Ollie. Chill out," Allen said and flopped back onto the couch, causing the cushions to spring and bounce the two nations again.

"I am perfectly _chill_, mind you."

"Hell yeah you are. Your fingers are ice cubes," he laughed. "How do you live with being so freaking cold?"

"They're not _THAT_ cold, Alley~ And swear jar," he scolded.

Allen reached over and took one of Oliver's hands, nearly shivering at the touch. "Fuck, Oliver! Yes, you are!" he nearly screeched, letting go.

"Swear jar!" he yelled and pulled his hand back. "I am perfectly fine!"

Allen, as usual, ignored the swear jar. "The cold never bothered you anyway?" he joked, referencing a movie.

"Well I didn't say that," Oliver mumbled, not in the mood to burst into song for once.

"Awe, c'mon." Al shoved him playfully. "What's got you so uptight?"

"Nothing!" Ol shouted and fidgeted with his hands. "I am perfectly down loose!"

Allen nonchalantly tilted his head at the saying. "Really?"

"Really," Oliver stated and proudly crossed his arms.

Allen paused for a moment and leaned back, ignoring the ear-piercing squeaks of the springs. "You can talk to me you know," he said honestly and uncapped his water bottle, gulping it.

Oliver mumbled bitterly. "As if. You're just a brat."

Allen frowned, pulling the bottle away and swallowing. "Well that was mean."

"Well you're a meanie," the Brit countered again.

"Oliver... I'm actually trying to be nice," he said sincerely, worriedly staring at his former caretaker. He sighed. "Whatever. If you're in a bad mood I can go," he said and averted his eyes.

"Wait..." Oliver sighed. "I'm sorry, poppet..." he apologized with some bit of hopelessness.

Al frowned. "Did you get into an argument with Franny or something?" That was often one of the things that would make Ollie so easily upset.

Oliver fidgeted, staring at the floor and sighing. "He's been awfully cranky lately..." he vaguely explained.

Al rolled his eyes and gave a small laugh. "Do I have to kick his a-" He coughed, trying to catch himself. "Uh... shit- I mean... crap." Yeah, he fucked up.

Oliver chuckled weakly and shook his head. "No...It's alright, poppet. I think he's just...stressed," he admitted. "I guess my bubbly happiness hasn't been making it much better," he frowned.

Allen sighed and stretched. "I'm sure the old hag will snap out of it sooner or later." He adjusted himself so that he was facing the Brit. "You alright, though?" he asked, worried. "Ya know, if ya want, you should go out with Flav or something. Get the Hell—o…" he caught himself and cleared his throat. "…out of this house," he finished.

"I suppose I should," Ol smiled in agreement. "I don't really want to go drinking though...Hmm. Maybe he can help me pick out a new couch?" he said, grinning sheepishly.

Al laughed out loud. "Thought you loved this old thing?" he said, smirking.

"I lied," Oliver giggled. "I actually stole it from Spain a while back. When we were pirates."

Al's eyes widened "...This thing is_ THAT_ ol-" He shook his head and waved his hand in front of him. "Nah nah, c'mon. We're going couch shopping."

"It's antique now, poppet!" Oliver smiled. "But I guess it _is_ a little worn out...Oh well."

Al got to his feet and blinked when a spring sprung up through the fabric. "A little."

Ol grinned and got up as well. "Alright, Alley, you win. You think we should give it back when we go to get Flavio? I'm not sure if Spain would want this thing though...It's a bit...used."

"Come on. Do you want to start a war over a couch?" Al joked.

"Well I don't see why not..." He'd never been on too great of terms with the Spaniard.

Allen just shook his head and grabbed Oliver's arm, impatiently dragging him out of the room. "Come on, Cupcake."

"Alright, alright~ I'm coming, poppet."

"Who's driving?" Al asked, grabbing his coat.

"Allen, no offense, but you are terrible at driving on the left side."

Allen frowned like a kicked puppy. "Hey, I only hit two trees in the past year." He paused and thought for a second, furrowing his eyebrows. "And wait...you drive?" he asked cautiously.

"Only, you say," Oliver responded with a shake of his head. "And poppet, of course I drive! Why would you think I didn't?" he asked as he grabbed his keys from a nearby table.

Al swallowed. "...fuck," he mumbled, worried. "Alright…Just please don't kill us…"

"Don't be so ruuuuuudddeeeeee. I am a great driver!"

Allen hesitated to trust him. He really didn't feel like he should be getting in a car with…well, Oliver. But he ended up following him anyway. "Well. Off to Italy," he sighed and paused a moment to think. "That won't be so bad, actually..."

"Off we go then~!" Oliver chirped and started the vehicle. Allen got in the passenger seat and buckled himself, already holding on for dear life. He was shocked when the Brit actually started driving fairly well, humming along to whatever was on the radio.

"Not only do you drive a relatively normal car, but you're good at it. Are you sure you're Oliver?" Al joked.

Oliver scoffed. "Wot does that meeaaaaaaannnn? Don't be so rudeee!"

"I just didn't expect it," the American admitted with a chuckle.

"Well I'm not a _COMPLETE_ psychopath, you know."

"Who knew?" Al smiled and then sighed, slouching in his seat as memories came to him. "At least you aren't like Matt and driving over a f...ruking lake."

"Matt did what?!" Ol squealed in worry. "Well...he's normally so careful. I'm sure he knows what he's doing," he relaxed. The Canadian wasn't usually a very pointlessly daring person.

"You were in the car," Al stated. "We almost died. He's insane and got pissed when I spilled his Timmies."

"Wait...you mean that road trip? That was a lake? I couldn't even tell...No wonder you and Francois were freaking out so much." He snickered, amused at the memory. "That was a tad entertaining, I must say."

"_ENTERTAINING?_ Are you crazy- wait."

"Hey! It's not my fault I find humor in your screams," the Brit giggled.

Allen froze and gulped nervously. "Oliver just drive so that I can get out of this cramped space alive."

"Oh, poppet," he grinned innocently. "You do realize it takes a while to drive to Italy from here? We haven't even reached the channel yet."

Allen groaned and slouched further into the seat. "Your car smells really freaking clean. Do you ever go anywhere?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I just clean a lot, poppet. Habit I picked up from Lutz."

"Really?" Al chuckled. "You guys spent a lot of time together for a while."

Oliver swallowed nervously. "Yeah. We certainly were good friends."

The car filled with silence as the gears turned in the American's head. "Did you two fuck?" he asked in more of a statement.

Oliver sputtered and blushed, his face turning bright red as he panicked to answer without making it too obvious. "Wot?! U-um. Allen- I don't think that's an appropriate question," he said and reached over to turn up the volume, humming loudly to the music in an attempt to distract himself from the conversation.

"OH MY GOD! YOU DID?!" Al instantly shot forward and yanked the volume back down. "I was only half joking! You guys were a thing?"

"D-don't act so surprised!" Ol muttered and adjusted himself uncomfortably.

"So wait, were you two just fooling around or were you serious? Why didn't you tell me? Even Flav isn't totally sure... I think."

Oliver frowned as the questions continued. "I- w-well... I-It's not really something we've talked about to anyone." He quieted down and tried to focus on the road, not too keen on continuing the conversation.

"Why?" Al asked. "Lutz is totally cool." He frowned, noticing how quiet the other had gotten. "Did something bad happen?"

Oliver bit his lip subtly. "Well...it just ended kind of badly, alright?" he stated, trying to make it clear that he didn't want to talk about it. But still, Al kept the questions going.

"And you're still bent up about it?" he asked.

"Well...I don't know...I guess I'm just afraid that...Francois and I might end up the same," he whispered, his voice becoming nearly inaudible by the time he finished the sentence. But still, Allen heard it.

He blinked, rolling his eyes. "What? Are you kidding me? You two are so fucking perfect that you're practically married. One stupid fight doesn't mean shit," he assured and leaned back in his seat, sighing and crossing his arms behind his head. When he looked over though, the Brit was biting his lip quite noticeably and looked as if he might cry. "...What? What did I say? C'mon, Ol..."

"N-nothing," Ol stuttered as tears began to stream down his face. Still, he continued to focus on the road.

"Oliver... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Pull over, dude. Crying will put us in a ditch. I should know."

"O-okay," Oliver agreed and found a nearby parking lot to pull into. He turned the vehicle off and just sat there crying for a little while. "A-and it's not you, po-ppet..." he finally said, voice cracking as he tried to wipe the wet tears from his face.

Allen yanked his seat belt off and turned to face him. "Look, I know I'm not the best person to vent to but I'll do my best. What's up?" he asked coolly, though he was practically freaking out internally.

Oliver shook his head, sobbing again as he leaned into the steering wheel.

"Oliver..." He sighed through his nose and struggled to awkwardly hug the Brit, who quickly hugged back and took a little while to finally calm down to a whimper.

"I'm sorry..." he whined.

"Don't go Canadian on me." Al gave a small chuckle, trying to cheer him up.

Ol laughed lightly. "Guess I've been around Mattie too much, huh...?"

"Yeah," Al responded, still awkwardly hugging him. A silence passed between them before he spoke up again. "You alright?"

Oliver sniffled and wiped his eyes again. "Yeah."

"Look, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you," Al sincerely apologized.

"It's not you, Allen. It's just..." He sighed. "Nothing. Let's go," he said and started the car up again.

Allen let go and pulled himself back into his own seat. "Are you sure...?"

"Yes, poppet. I'm alright." He nodded and pulled the car back onto the road, ready to continue their long trip.

Al leaned back, unsure. "Okay..." he said, deciding not to push him any further. For a while, the drive was fairly quiet, and he actually felt himself starting to drift off to sleep until he thought of something to talk about that hopefully wouldn't upset the other. "Don't let Flav talk you into buying a glow in the dark couch or something ridiculous."

Oliver perked up. "Do they have those?"

"No. At least I don't think so," he pondered.

"Oh. Well I thought that would have been pretty neat."

"Oliver, you don't need a...Wait. That's actually not a horrible idea if you get up in the middle of the night for a drink. Then again, you can't sleep on a bright couch."

"No, but you could read." He started to think more into it. "Or you could use a couch cover when you want to sleep, you know."

The American paused, realizing that it might not be quite as ridiculous as he'd initially thought. "Huh. Well. I guess we're getting a glow in the dark couch."

"If we can find one, that is," Oliver agreed. "I'm sure Flavio can help~!"

"He will totally help," Al snickered. "He'll probably drag his temperamental brother along."

"Yes, I'm sure you'll like that," Oliver agreed, grinning knowingly. Allen's eyes widened slightly, and he blushed, looking away at the window and hushing him. Oliver giggled at his reaction. "So Francois wasn't lying. You do like him."

"What? I n-never said-" He sputtered and blinked. "What do you mean Francois wasn't lying?"

"Oh, nothing~!" Oliver chimed and grinned widely.

"No, tell me!"

"Oh, come now. You honestly thought the country of love wouldn't catch on to your little crush~?" he giggled childishly.

Al blushed, embarrassed that he'd been that easy to read. "Shut up! You're the one _WITH_ the country of love..."

The Brit's grin slowly faded. "Yes...I am..." He paused but caught himself, perking up again. "But still. It's so adorable~! My little Alley has a crush~!"

The American groaned. "It's not a freaking crush." He huffed and looked away again.

Ol gasped and practically bounced in his seat. "So- Are you two dating then?! Does he like you back?!"

"What? I never said that either! Stop putting words in my mouth!" Al shouted, frustrated.

"Awwww, but then how is it not a crush then?" Ol whined. "What's going on? Tell meeeeee!"

"Oliver..." he sighed in defeat. "Whatever. It's a fucking crush and it's stupid." He seemed to sulk like an angsty teenager while the other simply smiled in triumph at getting him to admit to his crush. "Not like he gives a damn anyhow, so who cares."

"Wot?" Oliver glanced quickly at the pouting American. "Don't be so negative. How do you know he doesn't like you back?"

Al leaned against the window. "Well, for one, I think he hates my guts," he answered solemnly.

"Why would you think that?" He glanced over again worriedly.

"I don't know," he grumbled. "He just seems to hate everyone so why aren't I included, ya know?"

"Well, poppet. Francois seems to hate everyone too. But once you really get to know him..."

"He's the biggest softie on the fucking planet."

"Well, yes, but that's only because we've gotten close to him. He wasn't always that soft, you know..."

"Neither were you."

"Well...no...but the point is, Allen, that Luci probably isn't as uncaring as he seems."

"Yeah, I get it. I don't know," he sighed irritably. "Why does my country have to get such a crap rep, though?"

"Well you know..." Oliver sighed as well. "I guess it's not easy being a super power, huh?"

"Sometimes it really sucks. Everyone expects the best out of us like we're supposed to be perfect..." he ranted.

"Trust me, I know. The same goes for empires," Ol agreed, deflated. "Well...you don't have to be perfect to be perfect," he said with a grin and started humming along to the music again.

Al paused and shook his head. "You're crazy, Oliver. For some reason, though, it works for you."

"I know, poppet. I know."

* * *

"Dude we've been driving forever. We should be in Russia by now. What the hell."

Oliver snickered. "Allen, we're like two minutes from Flavio's house."

Al sighed heavily. "Finally," he groaned. "I really have to pee." They pulled into the Italian's driveway and parked, getting out to stretch from their long ride. Allen practically fell out of the car. "Gah! My legs!" he complained.

"Oh, don't be so dramatic."

"I swear to Celestia... I'm driving back, by the way," Al said as he wobbled a bit and finally stood straight.

"Whatever, poppet."

"Alright. Stop mucking around. Let's do this thing!" the American exclaimed and clapped his hands together, making for the front door. He rung the door bell, and while they waited, he looked over at the Brit. "Hey Oliver...don't you find it awkward that we're about to visit a guy we both fucked?" he asked with his characteristic smirk.

"...Poppet, why would you say that? He's done the whole world," Oliver answered with a roll of his eyes. "And swear jar," he added.

Al paused. "It's still weird," he concluded. "Oh and he hasn't done Franny or Luci…...that I know of," he added, with a slight look of disgust.

"I sure hope not," Ol agreed and rung the door bell again.

"Ha...yeah," Al said awkwardly and froze when the door swung open, revealing a very pissed off Italian; Luciano. Allen was screaming internally. "Oh, hi," he said and swallowed, trying to keep his cool.

Oliver smiled deviously before acting all sweet. "Well, I'll go fetch Flavio. Why don't you two talk a bit, poppet," he practically ordered, nudging the American before stepping inside.

"What? Oliver?" He looked at the angry Italian and then into the house, where the Brit had disappeared to. "What a prick." The only response Luciano gave him was a blank and angry glare. Al flinched. "What?"

"Why are you here?"

"Uh..." He pointed past the Italian, where Oliver had went. "His couch sucks and we figured Flav would be up for a shopping trip..."

Luci rolled his eyes and stepped aside. "Whatever. Hurry up and leave then," he said irritably.

Al nodded slowly. "Yeah, we won't bother you…" he promised, hiding his disappointment. Luci then began to walk off, ignoring him. Frowning, Allen took a deep breath. "Hey, uh, you can come with us. You know, if you want?" he offered, gulping when the other turned to him with an annoyed frown.

"I have better things to do than go couch shopping," he said sternly.

"Ha. Right. I figured," he responded, smiling awkwardly.

"No you don't," Flavio said, waltzing into the room with Oliver in tow. He grabbed Luci's sleeve and pulled him along. "Come on, we're going to find a new couch~." Luci groaned and trudged along.

Al blinked in surprise. "Okay. So this is happening." He turned back to the door and opened it, almost tripping over a bouquet of flowers. "SON OF A—" he shouted, catching himself.

Flav picked up the bouquet and set it on a table in the entryway. "Sorry about that," he smirked. "Admirers, you know~."

Allen looked at the flowers questioningly. "Who's it from?"

"Is there a tag anywhere?" Oliver asked curiously.

Allen messed with it until he found the tag, only to see it blank. He laughed. "Wow. Guess it's a secret admirer... They forgot to sign the damn thing." He shook his head, changing the subject. "Who cares? We should go."

Flavio shrugged and flipped his hair. "Well it doesn't matter as long as they could recognize true beauty," he laughed, heading out to the car. Luciano rolled his eyes and followed, climbing into the passenger seat.

Al chuckled slightly and got into the back seat, followed by Oliver, who watched him from the corner of his eye, smiling like a creep. When he finally noticed this, Allen frowned and gave him an odd look. "Stop that."

"Stop what, poppet?"

"You_ KNOW_ what," Al said in a sharp whisper, glancing cautiously between the Brit and the Italians in the front.

"You know wot too," Ol grinned deviously.

"_STOP THAT,_" Al huffed and turned toward the window, blushing. "Let's just buy the stupid glow-in-the-dark couch."

"Alright, alright~," Oliver said, still grinning like an idiot.

* * *

Flavio 'ooh-ed' at practically every nice couch they saw. Allen glanced around, bored and unimpressed. He was suddenly much less enthusiastic about couch shopping. "This is going to take five hours...isn't it?"

"Probably," Luciano agreed, looking around, bored and annoyed.

Al didn't hesitate to ask. "Wanna let these dorks do their thing and get some drinks?" he asked, honestly expecting to be turned down.

Luci looked at him blankly, then back at the other two, who were far too enthusiastic about looking at couches. "Sure, whatever."

"Yeah I didn't figure you'd want t- wait what?" Al blinked, almost shocked.

Luci rolled his eyes. "Anything to get away from these bubbly idiotas."

Al swallowed. "Yeah," he laughed quietly. "Okay, let's go." He turned and headed toward the door, suddenly feeling very nervous when the Italian actually followed. After walking outside, Al just sort of stood there. "Uuh... This is your neck of the woods, so I don't know of anywhere." He smiled sheepishly, silently asking the other to lead the way.

"Fine," Luci grumbled, beginning to walk off without explanation. They ended up at a small café a couple blocks down.

Allen quietly read the menu, though it was in full Italian. "Oh cool. They serve organic stuff here," he spoke aloud, to no one in particular.

Luciano glanced at him, confused as to how he'd read that. "I guess I don't have to read it to you then..."

Al offered a slight smile. "Guess not." He watched the Italian walk up and order whatever, then followed after him and did the same in fluent Italian. After ordering, he hung back a little and waited for their orders to be served.

Luci stood there awkwardly, avoiding eye contact as he attempted small conversation. "I guess it makes sense that you speak Italian..."

He bit his lip, trying not to say anything stupid. "Well Ya know. Lot of immigrants from Europe in my place... A lot are Italian... Ha..." He coughed to try breaking the weird atmosphere that had formed around them.

"Figured..."

Allen shifted awkwardly, trying to start up another conversation. "So does Flav drag you to random places a lot?"

Luci tsked. "Far too often," he answered lightly with slight annoyance directed toward his brother.

Al laughed. "Oliver does the same with us. But he has a habit of avoiding bars and places where you can at least _TRY_ to have fun," he said, rolling his eyes.

"Heh. Still better than Flavio. Have you ever been dragged to a strip club to watch Lutz? It's even more awkward when your own brother joins in," he mused, shaking his head at the memory.

"Lutz strips?!" Allen broke into a fit of laughter.

Luci gave a small laugh and smirked. "Yeah, he does that on his time off."

Still amused, Al wiped a few tears from the corners of his eyes. "You and Lutz are bros, right?"

Luci shrugged. "I guess."

"You wouldn't happen to know if... You know what, never mind," he decided, waving it off. Luci raised a brow, staring at him for a moment. "Don't give me that look."

Luci scowled, annoyed. "Well you were going to say something."

"It's..." He sighed, lowering his tone. "It's just Oliver. He's the guy who helps anyone when they're upset, but the second he has a problem, he brushes it under the rug like it's not important." He paused, hesitating and glanced at the Italian from the corner of his eye. "Sorry. It's not your problem."

Luciano closed his eyes, seemingly unfazed. "He's always been like that. He'll be fine," he assured.

Al shrugged. "I know. I just... I guess I worry too much." Their conversation died down, as Luci wasn't too sure what to say, and Allen internally beat himself up for ruining the mood with his worries. After some time, their orders finally came, and he went to grab them. "Come on. Let's find a place to chill out," he said, heading outside to a small table, setting everything down. Luci sat across from him, glaring at everyone that dared to look at him. Al watched him while taking a drink and chuckled at the act. This chuckled did not go unheard by the Italian, who quickly reverted his glare to the American.

"What?"

Al gave a crooked smile. "You're so pissed," he stated and quietly added, "It's kinda cute." The Italian squinted, glaring while angrily sipping his drink. Al swallowed hard and quickly avoided eye contact after that. After a moment, Luci started to look around, bored. "Sorry..." Allen apologized, nervously tapping his cup."

"Whatever," Luci said nonchalantly and mumbled that it was still better than couch shopping.

"Heh. Yeah, totally," he agreed with a smile, only for it to drop a second later. "I- look I didn't mean to call you cute. I mean, I meant it. But- ah. I mean- Fuck," he sputtered, looking around. "Hey, it might rain," he said quickly, changing the subject. Luci subconsciously tilted his head and raised an eyebrow, looking at the forming rain clouds and nodding subtly. Allen blushed, burying his face in his arms. "I'll shut up now." Luci blushed, realizing what he'd just done and glanced away, muttering something in Italian. "Huh?" Al asked, looking up.

"Nothing."

"Oh..." He bit his lip, focusing his stare at the liquid of his drink. Luci just went back to people watching to keep himself from being awkward again, and for once, Allen really had no idea what to say.

Luciano flinched when a rain drop landed on his cheek, causing the other to glance up and feel a drop as well. The Italian wiped the water from his face, but it only started to come down more. "Shit. Nice seating choice, idiota."

Allen leaned back in his seat. "I like rain"

Luci stared at him like he were stupid. "I hope you brought extra clothes then."

"Who needs clothes?" Al smirked not thinking.

Luci blushed and frowned, looking away again. "You hang out with Flavio too much," he said, causing the American to laugh.

"Oh, Flav's got nothin' to do with it."

"So you're just naturally perverted then," he replied, eyes boring into Allen's.

"I told you I have Italians in my country. Maybe I could invite one more?" he smirked suggestively, ignoring the rain that was starting to pick up now. He faltered when he got a confused look in return. "I..." He rose a brow. "Flirting? Come on, you hang around Flav too."

Luciano's eyebrows furrowed, and he deadpanned, "You're flirting with me? Me? Are you really that bored?"

Allen pulled back, baffled. "Bored? What do you mean?" He blinked, confused, while still ignoring the oncoming downpour.

Luci crossed his arms and glaring over at nothing. "You know what I mean, American."

"No, I really don't," Al assured him. "Why are you surprised that I'm showing interest in you?" The Italian only tsked and ignored him, still looking off to the side. Al blinked. "You really think I'm joking," he stated wondrously.

Suddenly, Luciano stood and grabbed his stuff, still not looking at the other. "Whatever..."

Allen quickly got up and rounded the table, blocking him from leaving. "Wait..."

"What?" he growled.

"I wasn't joking. At all." Before he could even think, he leaned forward and made the spontaneous decision to kiss him. Luci took a few seconds to register what was happening. His eyes widened in shock, and he jumped back out of reflex. Allen froze, not sure if what he'd done was a bad move or not. Luci blinked and blushed bright red, opening his mouth to speak but couldn't find his voice. "I'm sorry," Al apologized sincerely, shivering from the cold. "I just…I've liked you for a while. And I- I uh…"

Luci paused and took a moment to think it over, moving his gaze to the ground, the blush still on his face. "You're...serious then...?"

Al took a breath and sighed, defeated. "Yeah."

"Oh...okay..." Luci trailed off. He really wasn't expecting any of this and had absolutely no idea what to do about it.

"You aren't...upset?" Al asked, tilting his head up like a child asking to be forgiven.

"...Not really..." Luci answered and bit his lip.

Al swallowed. "Can...Can I, uh..."

Luciano gulped and fidgeted before slowly stepping back toward Al and abruptly kissing him real quick. It was only a peck, but he pulled back immediately, blushing. "I was...just getting even with you," he explained, failing to hide the blush as he continued to look away.

A smile slowly grew on Allen's face and he gave a short laugh. "It's fucking cold," he said and grabbed Luci's hand. "Let's get somewhere and dry off."

"Sure..." Luci said and followed quietly, staring at their hands the whole time. It was a foreign feeling to him…but not exactly unwelcome. He didn't even realize when he'd been dragged into some hotel.

"We can chill here and dry off. Oliver and Flav are probably gonna take at least three hours to narrow their choices down to seven," Allen mused and finally let go of his hand.

"That's not unlikely, knowing my fratello." They headed to their room, and he began to try wringing out his drenched clothes a bit.

"I'll take our stuff to the little laundry room to get dry." Al searched the closet. "They have robes," he informed, yanking one out and handing it to the Italian. "Here."

"Right..." He stared at the robe awkwardly, and next thing he knew, Allen was yanking his coat and shirt off to change into his own robe. Luci blushed and started changing as well, forcing himself not to look at the American and hoping the other wouldn't turn around any time soon.

Al didn't really think much of it. Having lived around Matt and Francois, it wasn't really unusual at all, so it was pretty easy for him to just strip to his boxers. He used a towel to try drying himself, keeping his back turned. "Alright... are you decent?"

Luci pulled on his robe and began tying it. "Yeah." He started drying his hair, being careful of the curl.

Al turned and looked at him for a second before pulling on his own robe and grabbing their wet clothes. "Be back in a sec," he said, slipping out of the room. Luciano sat awkwardly on the edge of the bed, not sure what to do. A moment later, the American came back in and sighed. "I'm glad I had change from the cafe. I mean, we pay for a room that we're barely gonna use and they make us pay for laundry, too?" He stopped. "Sorry. Ranting."

"No, you do have a point.."

Allen sat on the bed beside Luci and flopped onto his back. "I'm one to talk, though. My place is Hell when it comes to extra costs."

"No kidding."

"I blame my boss," Al sighed, glancing at the Italian before fixating his stare on the ceiling.

"Order a pizza there, and they make you pay extra for every topping," Luci tsked. "Which boss?" he asked, referring to what Al had said. "You change yours constantly."

"Ha. No kidding..." He frowned, still staring at the ceiling. "They change it up a lot at my place. Between Mr. President and the Congress as a whole, it switches a lot…That's probably why it's so hard to fix any problems."

Luci paused and thought. "Must be annoying."

Al sighed and closed his eyes. "You said it." The conversation dropped there, and the room went into a comforting silence. After some time, Luciano began kicking his legs subtly, bored. Al could feel the movement, though he himself was completely relaxed. "Restless?" he asked, eyes still closed.

"Just a bit," the Italian answered. He sighed and flopped back, lying beside the American. Crossing his arms behind his head, he began to stare at the ceiling.

Allen peeked at him. "Huh. Never pegged you as the type to get bored easily."

Luci huffed lightly. "Yeah, well, I'm normally busy doing work while Flavio goes out and parties," he answered, closing his eyes.

"You need to learn how to relax." He smiled, and Luci peeked at him through one eye, not saying anything before closing them again and sighing. Al followed his lead and turned back to the ceiling again. "See? Relaxed." He took a deep breath and sighed contently.

"I guess..." Luci let the room fall to silence once again, mind reeling with thoughts. "You think they've noticed we left?"

"Oliver saw us go," Al responded almost immediately.

Luciano hesitated. "...Why didn't he say anything?"

Allen sighed a bit sadly. "He got it in his head that I had a chance with you. What a dork, yeah?" he asked, giving a small, hopeless chuckle at the end.

Again, Luciano hesitated, waiting a moment before turning away. ... "So you've talked to him then..."

"Not really...Oliver isn't as dense as he acts." He blushed. "And Franny _IS _hanging around…" he explained.

"I see..."

Al glanced at Luci's back and then over to the opposite wall. "I'm sorry. I'm not really quiet about...well, anything."

"No, you're not," Luci replied a bit too quickly. "But...you think you don't?"

"You think I don't what?" Al asked, not thinking.

Luci played with the sleeve of his robe, nervous to answer. "Have a chance with me..." he said quietly.

Allen blinked. "...do I?"

"I don't know," Luci shrugged. "...You're the first person to spontaneously kiss me..." he said, almost disappointed.

"What?" he exclaimed, making a face. "Are you serious?" Luci just responded with an awkward shrug, not bothering to look over. "Damn it—" Al growled, rolling over top of him. "You are way too fucking cute to not be spontaneously kissed." He smiled and nearly fanboyed when he saw how flustered and blushy the Italian became. "This is what I'm talking about," he smiled, brushing a stray hair out of Luci's face. "You're not as much of a hard ass as you claim to be."

Luciano tried his best to sound irritated. "Yeah, whatever," he replied, blushing like a schoolgirl.

Al leaned in slightly. "You're fucking adorable, and I'll do what I have to to make you feel that. If you let me..." he promised. Luciano bit his lip and reached up to hold the hair out of Al's face, so he could see his eyes. At that moment, Allen held his breath and waited before finally leaning down and brushing his lips against the Italian's. To his surprise, Luci actually kissed back this time, and a fiesta went off in the American's mind as he wrapped his arms under Luci's back. In return, Luci wrapped his own arms around Al's neck and pulled him closer. They went on like that for what seemed like a while, until Allen finally pulled back, gasping for air. "Holy shit," he huffed. They both took a bit to catch their breaths, just staring at one another. Something in Allen exploded, and he took Luci's cheeks into his hands, tilting his head and planting kisses all over his face while whispering, "Why are you so fucking...argh!"

Luci smirked and chuckled softly. He'd never been showered with kisses before, and honestly, he wasn't about to stop it.

Al kissed his cheek again and pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, smiling. "Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, or I'll have to get my bat and beat the shit out of them," he mused.

"My hero~," Luci responded sarcastically with a roll of his eyes.

Al laughed softly. "They don't call me Captain America for nothin!" he exclaimed, causing the other to smirk and raise a brow.

"Who's they?"

"... Shush." Allen leant in with another kiss to keep him from making another smart comment. It was short and sweet, but it still made sparks fly.

"So..." Luci trailed, changing the subject. "How long until our clothes are dry?"

"The timer said about fifty minutes...That was a half hour ago or so. Want me to check?" he asked, pulling back. Luci shrugged nonchalantly, and Allen quirked a bro. "Or I'll stay here," he said, resting his weight on top of the Italian. "Your choice."

"Doesn't matter…" Luci muttered.

"Well, the colourful ones might get worried…"

"Right..." Luci said, glancing away. "Should we go then?"

Allen laughed, shaking his head. "I'm not really a fan of- ah... Doing anything too crazy in a crummy hotel room."

"Neither am I," Luci agreed with a small chuckle.

Allen suddenly turned over and leapt to his feet. "I'll be right back with our stuff!" he shouted as he ran out with a little too much enthusiasm. Luciano sat up and laughed to himself while shaking his head at the excitable American. A minute later, Allen bounded back into the room, dropping the warm clothes on the bed and picking his own from the pile, already starting to yank them on. Luci did the same and then took out his phone, seeing a single text from his brother, asking where they'd gone. Allen glanced at his own phone and blushed from the fifteen-or-so text that Oliver had sent, cheering him on. He also found one from Matt and another from Francois, asking where he was. "That's weird," he commented to himself, holding the door open for Luciano while he continued to look through his messages. "So. Did Flav freak?"

"No, he really just asked where we went," the Italian sighed, fixing the hem of his jacket. "I don't think the pink one has said anything to him yet, surprisingly..."

Allen laughed at his nickname for Oliver. "I'm sure he's internally screaming. What a dork...Tell Flav we're on our way," he said and lead the way.

"Alright," Luci said and quickly sent the message to his brother, shoving the phone into his pocket as he finished.

They walked down the street, searching for the couch place where they'd left the others. Allen shifted his gaze to the Italian and took a breath, contemplating something. "Hey, Luci? Can I ask you something kind of stupid?"

"Mm?" Luci hummed, casually glancing around at the street life.

"Well... Fran and Oliver are apparently going at it right now. He texted me... I don't want to take sides but I know how they both are. Oliver's a sadistic psycho and Francois is kind of a prick... I just, I don't know." He sighed and stared at the sky, debating what to do.

"...So what's your question...?"

Allen frowned, realizing he hadn't actually asked a question. "Well, Fran texted me asking where I was. He doesn't text or call or play with his phone. Ever. I just don't know what to do," he admitted.

Luci sighed. "Whatever their problem is, they should sort it out themselves."

"Guess so," Al nodded, biting his lip. "Think they found a glow in the dark couch?" he asked, earning an odd look in response. "I guess you weren't around for that conversation," he chuckled, holding the door open for Luci when they'd finally reached the store.

"Guess not. Do they even have those?"

"I don't know," Al shrugged. "If there is, Flavio will sniff it out."

"Likely."

Al looked around the store, extending his neck as if it would help him see over the furniture. "Where are those nerds?"

Luciano paused and sniffed the air. "This way," he said and headed off through the place.

Allen blinked and followed, catching up. "What are you, part dog?" he joked.

Luci spared him a glare. "I'm just accustomed to my brother's perfume. He has the tendency to disappear when he drags me out like this," he explained, continuing to follow his smell.

"So you opted to sniff him out?" Al snickered, smirking. He shook his head. "That's okay, though. When I lose Oliver I just shout 'Fuck'."

"The swear jar trick?" Luci smirked, almost laughing.

"Ugh. You should be lucky you don't live with that," Allen complained, rolling his eyes dramatically.

"I am. But unfortunately, Flavio isn't much better," he said half-bitterly.

"Is it the flashiness or something else?" Al asked, raising a brow. "I don't mean to sound like I'm undermining you, but I've known Flav for a while now. He's pretty chill."

"Heh. I guess he's a pretty great actor then," he said with some trace of sadness in his voice. His aura grew irritated, telling Al not to push the matter. Instead, Allen just frowned. And finally, before anything else could be said, they finally spotted Flav and Ol.

"AY, OLLIE," Allen shouted, waving. The Brit jumped up from the couch, waving frantically and grinning like a maniac.

"Alllleeeennnnn~!"

"Oh god, why..." he grumbled to himself. "You find something?"

Oliver perked up. "Look, look, look!" he squealed, pointing at a leather couch. "Isn't it nice? They said they could make it glow in the dark, too!"

Al briefly turned to Luci. "Told ya," he said and turned back to the pink one. "And Ol, it's way better than that century old pirate couch of yours."

Luci sighed, glancing away from the commotion. Once again, he just wanted to go home. Flavio watched him from the corner of his eye. Something seemed off, but he wasn't sure what.

"So are we ready to pack this thing up and get the Hell out of the couch store?" Allen asked, gesturing to the couch.

"Swear jar. But I suppose so," Oliver said, glancing to Flavio.

"I'll go get someone then, love~" the blond Italian chirped and left the group to go find one of the workers.

Allen groaned. "For fuck's sake, Oliver." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

"Swear jar!"

"Mmhm."

Oliver shrugged. "Anyyywayyyy..." he sang, a smile slowly growing on his face as he glanced between Al and Luci, causing the Italian to fidget uncomfortably.

"So what next?" Al asked casually, ignoring Ol's stare.

"Flavio better hurry his ass up so I can go home already," Luci grumbled. Oliver opened his mouth to swear jar him but stopped when the Italian glared threateningly.

Allen smirked. "Swear jar," he mocked, and the Italian slowly turned to him, squinting even more threateningly. Allen then smiled at him, causing the other to roll his eyes and look away again, blushing slightly. "My swear jar isn't cheap, either."

"Doesn't mean I'll pay it."

Al nudged him subtly. "Oh, and I don't take cash," he informed. Luci's face got much redder, and Oliver did his best not to fangirl out loud as he watched the two of them. "I'll collect payment later," he winked and then turned to Oliver as if that hadn't happened. "I like the couch." Oliver nodded in agreement, forcing himself not to reply as Flavio walked up to them with an employee, completely unaware of whatever had happened. "We set?" Allen asked after the couch was payed for. "I wanna get out of here before that homeless guy sitting outside comes in."

"Don't be rude," Oliver scolded and turned to the Italians. "Alright, let's go~"

* * *

"Ugh. It's nice to be back," Allen stated and stretched as he went to sit on the old couch in Oliver's home, not noticing the bundle of blankets. He screamed when it grunted and moved.

Luciano suppressed a laugh at the girly scream.

"Get off!" a French-accented voice yelled from under the blankets. "For a vegan, you're heavy," he complained irritably and sat up, looking drowsy.

"The fuck, Franny," Allen said and tripped backwards, stumbling over next to Luci.

Oliver frowned at the situation but didn't say anything.

Flavio smiled and walked up to the Frenchman, greeting him. "Franny, darling~" he sang and hugged him.

"Eh.. Bonjour," Francois replied, patting him awkwardly as he stood up.

"What on earth are you doing here, Franny? Did you come to help with the couch~?"

Francois looked over at the old beat-up one he'd just been napping on. "Oh," he said in realization. "That's why everyone was gone?"

Allen discreetly leaned toward Luciano's ear and whispered. "Wanna go outside and start unstrapping the thing and getting it ready to drag in?"

"I don't really want to," Luci mumbled back, "but if it gets us out of this awkward mess, sure." He started heading toward the door while the others were wrapped up in a conversation. Allen followed him outside and breathed a sigh of relief that they were finally out of there.

"I didn't mean it when I said we were gonna unstrap this thing. I just needed an excuse," he laughed.

"An excuse for what?" Luci asked, raising a brow with an unimpressed look.

Allen smirked. "To get out of there...and to get you alone."

Luci returned the smirk. "A bit needy, aren't you?" he asked, stepping closer to the American.

"Hey, you owe me a swear jar payment."

"Guess I do," he said, and Allen wrapped his arms around his waist, leaning in and smiling crookedly. Luci grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him closer.

Allen giggled at the act. "Who's needy now?"

Luci smirked again. "I'm just giving my payment." He brushed his lips against the American's, and the other leaned into it, pulling him closer again. After kissing for a bit, Luciano finally pulled away. "Does that cover the costs?"

"I'm American. I'll add additional charges later, when you least expect it," he winked.

Luciano laughed lightly. "Making fun of your own country now?"

"Hey, if I can't laugh at myself, what kind of person am I?" Al shrugged. The Italian shrugged in response and shook his head, smiling. "Hey, so we have two options," Al began. "We A- Go do it on Oliver's new couch, or B- Watch the potential shit storm about to go down through that window over there," he suggested, pointing a thumb to the house.

Luci looked away, holding his laughter in. "While both sound entertaining, I don't fancy doing it outside in the winter," he answered, raising an eyebrow at the crazy idea.

"Spying it is?"

"Heh. I guess."

"I'll keep you warm," Allen stated and smiled cheekily, smothering the Italian in his bomber jacket before the other could protest.

Flustered, Luci pouted. "I'm not that cold, idiota," he said, trying to sound irritated when he really wasn't.

"Shut up and enjoy the temperature of my southern region." He paused. Wait. That is NOT what I meant." Luci took a deep breath and rested his face in his hand, laughing silently to himself. "I feel you laughing…That, or you're aggressively hiccuping." His statement only caused the other to laugh even harder, to the point where it was difficult to breathe. And yet, he barely made a sound. "I'm gonna go with violent hiccuping."

"Sure, sure," Luci agreed half-heartedly and waved it off.

Allen snuggled him tightly and looked inside through the curtains. Luci recovered from his fit and peeked inside with him. Francois was sitting awkwardly on the tiny love seat, looking down.

"Poppet...?" Oliver said so quietly, you'd think he were Canadian.

Francois glanced up at him and held his gaze for a moment. "Oui?"

Oliver swallowed. "You alright...?"

The Frenchman frowned and stood. "Non," he answered, fidgeting awkwardly with his hands. "I'm sorry."

"O-oh. Um..." The Brit looked at the ground sadly, remembering their recent argument. "I'm sorry too, poppet..."

"...I also forgot to write on the tag for the flowers." Oliver and Flavio blinked, a bit surprised and confused. "I was flustered, alright?" he groaned, running a hand through his messy hair.

"So…" Flavio frowned. "That wasn't a secret admirer then…?" he asked, disappointed.

"Sorry, non."

Oliver smiled softly. "Well that was sweet of you anyway..."

Francois sniffled and looked sincere. "So..." Oliver squeaked and glomped him, unable to hold in his joy. He buried his face in the other's chest. "Careful," Franny warned, smiling sheepishly. "I got caught in the rain, and I think I have a cold now."

Oliver giggled. "I don't mind, poppet. I'm just glad you're here. Would you like some tea?" he offered.

Francois ran his hand through the other's soft hair, petting it. "Sure. While you do that, I'll help bring the new couch in," he said, looking at Flavio questioningly. The Italian tilted his head curiously, and Oliver ran off to make tea for everyone. "Come on. Let's get the fucking lovebirds to get off of their asses and help, too."

"Lovebirds?" Flavio asked, genuinely confused about who he was referring to.

Francois raised a brow in surprise and immediately became amused. "This'll be interesting," he smirked and walked outside. Flavio followed him, looking confused.

Allen's eyes widened. They couldn't hear anything that had been said, but they could see everything. "I think they're coming out, shit." Luciano adjusted himself and attempted to crawl out of the jacket. Allen hurriedly tried undoing the zipper to make it easier, but it wouldn't budge. "Shit. I think it's stuck." Luci continued to struggle. "Ow—Careful!" Al complained, struggling himself. "C'mon…"

"... Al, your stomach is arguing with you." A voice came from behind, and Allen screamed. "That's what you get for eating vegan," it said nonchalantly.

Shocked, Luci stumbled back, and both of them landed in the snow. The zipper broke off, and finally, he was free from the ensnaring jacket.

"Fuck. My jacket…" Allen whimpered. His head snapped up afterward. "Damn it, Matt!"

"...Well, then." Matt stared at the two of them. "Hey, Luci."

Luciano stood up and brushed himself off. He briefly glared at the Canadian, upset that he'd seen them like that. And all the while, he hoped his blush would be mistaken as anger.

Allen got up and shook the snow off his jeans. "When did you get here?"

"Like...five minutes ago."

Grumbling, Luci walked away, not wanting to hear any more. At that time, Flavio and Francois came outside. The Frenchman smirked at the younger Italian upon passing him and nodded to Matt. "Alright, let's get this over with," he said boredly, earning a glare from a pissed-off Luciano.

"Come on, let's get this stupid glow-in-the-dark couch in the house," Al stated, heading toward the others.

Matt paused. "It glows in the dark?"

Oliver then came out to help. He had just put the water on for tea.

Allen looked around at the bunch of them. "How many countries does it take to bring one couch into the house?"

"Sounds like a bad joke," Matt stated.

"Alright, fellas~" Flavio sang. "Let's get this couch inside and be on with our day."

They all helped to get the couch ready to take inside. The cushions went in first, and now it was time for the more difficult part.

"Can we burn the other one?" Al asked out of curiosity.

"It's awfully worn," Flavio explained as he directed the others in getting the furniture through the door. There was no way he'd ruin his manicure for this. "Of course we'll have to burn it."

"We can have a bonfire!" Oliver exclaimed happily.

"I am not staying here for a fucking bonfire!" Luciano growled.

"I can grab some wood when we get this thing in place," Matt offered.

"Awe, why not, Luci?" Al whined. The Italian's eye twitched at his tone. Allen smiled crookedly and winked at him.

Matt watched silently and glanced at Oliver, confused about whether or not he was seeing things. The Brit didn't notice him, though, as he was too occupied with trying not to squeal at the two lover-boys. Matt followed his gaze back to the two of them, suddenly noticing the rather great amount of sexual tension. "Holy shit," he said aloud, blinking.

"Swear jar, Mattie," Oliver blurted.

Flavio stood, observing them quietly. He was slightly baffled and a bit cautious. His sexual senses were tingling. Was he reading this right…?

Al blinked and looked around, feeling everyone's stares. "What?"

"Is there…" Flav began, raising a brow and smirking, "something I should know here?"

"Psht. Yeah. Make sure we get this fucking thing inside before we freeze to death," Allen complained, referring to the couch they were still holding idly. "Let's go FLav. Direct and let's finish," he demanded and gave Luci a quick glance.

Luciano grumbled to himself, and his brother scoffed at Allen's tone before finally going back to directing. "Come on, this way. Franny, tilt it a bit," he said, motioning with his hands.

Francois did as told and tilted the couch, noticing that doing so took it out of Oliver's comfort reach. "Go ahead and let go. I've got it."

"Alright, poppet..." Oliver agreed and released his part of the couch, nearly causing the others to drop it from the weight change. Francois took over where he had been and moved forward. Matt didn't really notice the change.

Finally, they made it to the living room. "Go ahead and drop it there, boys. We have to get this old one out of here now~"

Luciano growled and mumbled to himself something along the lines of Why do I have to help move a stupid fucking couch?"

"This one is light," Matt said, somehow hearing him. "Al and I can get it outside. You guys chill, alright?"

"What? Hey, why me?" Al whined.

"Good," Luci stated, plopping down on the new couch.

"Now, now, fratello. We have to move this one into place once they get that out of the way," Flavio explained while waving his hand toward the old couch for emphasis.

Matt dragged Al over and started with the old one. Francois stepped beside Oliver and grabbed his tea from the Brit. "Merci."

Oliver smiled and began handing out the drinks. "Just take a break, poppets. Thank you for the help."

When Al and Matt returned, Francois and Flavio kept their eyes on Luciano, almost as if waiting to see how he'd react.

Allen obliviously plopped down next to Luci, stretching and resting his arms behind his head. "This thing is damn comfy!" he said as he practically sank into the seat. Luci glared away and angrily sipped his tea.

Francois nudged Oliver and gestured to the happy couple, causing the Brit to grin and nod excitedly. "I knew it," Fran stated almost proudly.

"You were right, poppet."

"They don't call me the romance nation for nothing," he whispered, winking down at the Oliver, who blushed and giggled in response.

An arm draped around the Frenchman's shoulders, and Flavio leaned in, whispering. "Sooo...care to fill me in, Mr. Romance~?" he asked, giving a sly smile.

Francois cleared his throat and stated loudly, "I think they should just get out of the closet and kiss already." With that, he reached for his pack of cigarettes and walked outside.

"Wait, what?" Allen asked in confusion. Luci tried to hide his burning embarrassment by taking a long sip of tea, acting as if nothing had happened. Matt glanced between the two of them and slowly backed to the door, deciding to join Francois outside.

Oliver finally let himself squeal, happy for Allen. Flavio smirked at the two on the couch, almost prideful. "Something you'd like to tell me, fratellino~?"

Al paused, still confused. "Tell you what?"

Growing irritated, Luci growled. "There is nothing to tell," he said, glaring at his brother.

Allen glanced between them and frowned. "Whoa...what? Why...?"

Flavio shifted his gaze to the American and smiled sweetly. "Then maybe you'll fill me in, my good friend~?"

"I'm still confused about what we're talking about," he answered honestly and leaned back, sipping his tea like a clueless child.

"Oh, come on, Allen~ I know something's up between you and my brother," Flav said, glancing between the two of them and smirking as his brother glared daggers.

"Yeah. Too much space, if you ask me," Allen said casually and continued drinking his tea as if he'd said nothing. Luciano gave him a look just screaming to shut the fuck up, while Oliver only squealed more. Flavio laughed. He knew what was up. "What?" Allen asked. Flavio bit his lip in a smirk and subtly sat on the other side of Al, pushing him closer to Luci. "Hey, watch it, Italian Sparkles," Al said and carefully pulled his tea away so as not to spill it. Luciano did his best not to laugh at the nickname. Allen sighed and set his cup on the coffee table. "Are you needy, Flav?"

"Needy?" the Italian laughed. "Maybe. I'd just like to know what's going on in my precious little brother's life, is all."

Allen tilted his head and looked to Oliver for an answer, shrugging. The Brit shrugged back and hummed as if he knew nothing. Al sighed and rolled his eys. "You two are such freaks."

Luciano's anger bubbled up, and he did his best to hold it in. However, there was only so much he could take. "The only thing going on in my life is that I'm being dragged around by you jerks to move couches!" he shouted and took one more aggressive gulp of tea before slamming the cup down on the table and stomping out of the house.

"Huh?" Allen stood up quickly. "Wait, hey!" he exclaimed and began chasing after him. "Luci, wait."

Oliver blinked. Flavio sighed and gave Allen a look. "Come on, now. What's going on?"

Allen stopped in his tracks and looked back. "I kissed him," he said and ran out before they could ask anything else. The two of them exchanged a look of surprise and quickly got up to follow him. Outside, Allen looked around quickly and spotted Luci glaring at Francois.

The Frenchman shrugged. "What?"

Allen sighed slightly, and Luci looked away, crossing his arms and sighing irritably. Al turned and glared at Matt and Fran, gesturing for them to go inside and leave him be.

Matt scrunched his eyebrows and gave him a bitchy look. "What'd I do?"

Al rolled his eyes. "Please?"

Matt sighed and flicked his cigarette out. "Sure thing, lover boy," he said, heading in with Francois. They pretty much shoved Oliver and Flavio back inside before they could even leave, giving the 'lover boys' some privacy.

Al sighed heavily. "Look..." he began, thinking of how to word it. He got a half-assed glare from the corner of the Italian's eye, and he let his shoulders slump in response. "You can tell me if you don't like me. I'm used to rejection."

"Tch." Luciano paused and looked away, keeping his voice quiet. "It's not that I don't like you. It's that—" He fumbled with his words and growled tiredly. "Nothing. It's got nothing to do with you, alright?"

Allen frowned and leaned against the house. "You know you don't have to bottle it up." Luci walked over and leaned back beside him, staring seemingly at nothing. He sighed, saying nothing. Al sighed as well and dropped his head. "I'm sorry if I pissed you off…and if anyone else did."

"You don't have to apologize." He paused and thought. "They were trying to piss me off. I'm used to it."

"I understand…Hell, I've done it back. Mattie and I argue constantly," he added, seeing the Italian's confused look.

"I guess it's a brother thing then…" Luci said, sounding defeated.

"Hey," Al said and leaned over, pulling his lip back to show his missing tooth. "See that?" he asked.

Luci blinked. "Yeah?"

"Matt gave me that."

"Oh. Uh...I guess you don't always get along then. He seemed like the calm one, too."

"You've never seen him with a hockey stick," he chuckled.

"Heh. Guess not."

Allen smiled and thought for a bit, playing with the gap in his teeth. "I thought about getting it fixed."

"Can they do that?"

"I think so." Allen nodded. "I'd look less like a freakin' Southerner."

"More like a street thug," Luci joked.

"Huh. I don't know if I like that or not."

Luci laughed and shook his head.

Suddenly, Al perked up a bit. "Hey, I say we ditch this popsicle stand and get on my bike and drive somewhere."

"Popsicle stand?" Luci asked, raising a brow in amusement.

"You've never heard that saying...?"

"Not sure if you got the memo…but I don't exactly get out much."

"Then I'll have to change that," Al declared.

"You can try. But that won't make Flavio do any damn work."

Al frowned a moment to think and then started laughing. "I have a really good idea for that."

"Oh boy," Luci sighed, rolling his eyes. But he had the feeling that whatever the American had planned, he'd go along with it. It wasn't every day he could have such a casual conversation and forget that everything else existed. So whatever crazy ideas Allen might come up with…..well….he'd put up with them.

* * *

**That took long enough. Anyway, thanks for reading &amp; _please review!_**


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